Baby Grands Sanctuary Edition
by Serenitychan13
Summary: Series of thousand-word ficlets dealing with Nikola Tesla and a Siren original character. Twenty-six installments will cover their relationship from beginning to end. Flames unwelcome. React badly to OCs? Don't read. Rating for mature situations.
1. Abnormal

_**Disclaimer:**_ **Woo hoo! Here we go, withOUT a witty disclaimer. I don't own Sanctuary. This fic series contains an OC or two. I'll do me best to keep her non-MarySue. You don't like OC's? Don't read.**

_**A Brief Author's Note: **_**If you've read my other series of Baby Grands, featuring Graverobber and Shilo of ****Repo! The Genetic Opera****, you get the idea of Baby Grands. I seem to have hit a recent spell of writer's block, so I'm going back into the business of Baby Grands - now in the Sanctuary edition! The idea is that a thousand is colloquially referred to as a "grand". The "baby" bit comes from the term "ficlet," which just brings to mind the image of baby fanfics.**

Abnormal

There had been reports of a rogue creature in the Sound area. Normally the Sanctuary didn't deal with what would normally be an Animal Control issue. However, this involved what some people had described as humanoid. Last week, a fisherman who had been notorious for shooting sea lions turned up without his entrails. The bites checked out as shark-like, but some of marks had come from _hands_. Someone with a quick eye had called Dr. Magnus and she had asked none other than Nikola Tesla to come and see about it. When he asked why, Ashley had mentioned something about him being a walking Taser.

So now, he was out on the rocky beach of the Sound with Will and Henry in an SUV nearby in case anything went wrong. Nobody was out on the beach so close to dark. His grey eyes swept up and down the sandy shore, looking for anything unusual. He found nothing that looked Abnormal, but something light-colored caught his eye as a wave swept out to sea. He narrowed his eyes on the same spot and something silver glimmered close to it. Something long, dark, and wispy floated near the shine.

"What in the world?" he remarked to himself, approaching the spot where he first saw the strange object. Upon closer inspection, it seemed to be a human hand. "Well that's interesting."

He stood at the water's edge, watching the shape for any sign of life. If it was dead already, there wasn't much point bringing it in. It might have been his imagination, or a trick of the light, but the arm attached to the hand twitched. Then he clearly saw the hand clench into a fist and release again. Two long, quick steps brought him alongside the shape - the red "seaweed" he had first seen was, in fact, a face covered by long, sodden auburn hair. He rolled his eyes. Whatever he was really looking for, he had apparently found some overly-emotional young woman who had decided to make like Ophelia.

Henry and Will had hopped out of the SUV and were headed over to see why Tesla was standing knee-deep in the ocean and not seemingly _doing_ anything. He shrugged his shoulders and lifted the tangle of arms, legs, and hair into his arms. Then he realized that he had found exactly the creature they were looking for. As her head rolled back, her mouth opened slightly and he saw two rows of serrated, shark-like teeth. He hefted her up closer to his chest and splashed out of the surf, his pants soaked clear up to his thighs.

"Hey Tesla, what'd you--- What the hell happened?!" yelped Henry, who had run down the beach ahead of Will to see what Tesla had picked up.

"Haven't a clue as to the circumstances, but it seems I've found what we came here for," the electric vampire answered. "She's unconscious."

Henry processed this quickly, decided to ask no questions, and waved his hands for Will to head back to the SUV. The werewolf followed, his ankles turning as he cursed at the sand. Tesla brought up the rear, instructed Will to drive, and set the girl on the seat next to him, her naked self a soggy pile on the leather upholstery. Out of clinical curiosity, he reached out and peeled back one of her eyelids, furrowing his brow at what he saw. Instead of a human eye, with white sclera, an iris, and round pupil, he saw something closer to a shark's eye, the whole thing golden and the pupil long and slitted, like a cat's eye.

He had his ideas, but decided to keep them to himself for the time being. The drive was a bit of a bumpy one. The stupid road-builders loved putting up those big orange barrels and cones, but it never seemed like there was any actual work being done. Tesla retreated back inside his head and let his thoughts chase each other around for a while. Before he knew it, he was hauling the unconscious girl up the stairs, bypassing the Big Guy, carrying her through the Sanctuary, and depositing her in a lab.

Helen came along post haste, her high heels clicking on the marble floor of the hallway. She knocked on the open door frame before walking right on in. Grabbing a pair of rubber gloves and, after cordially greeting Nikola, she asked what they were dealing with. The self-proclaimed genius replied that he had his theories. Before he could elaborate, Helen had a needle and syringe in hand and was drawing a blood sample from the unconscious female.

"You say you found her floating in the Sound?" she inquired. Nikola nodded and, before he could start to monologue again, she continued. "Could you venture a guess as to how long she had been there?"

"Seems impossible, but she had to have been there for half an hour at least, with how I found her," answered Tesla. "I thought I'd found someone who'd taken a love of Shakespeare's women a bit too far. Suicide's on the rise, you know?"

Helen nodded as she loaded the blood sample into a centrifuge to separate it. She carefully lifted the girl's lip, noted the teeth, and then did the same to the eyes. Nikola finally got a look at the shiny thing that had caught his eye in the water – a silver collar. It didn't seem to have a fastener of any kind. From the burn on the back of her neck, someone had welded this thing shut. He didn't like touching it. Certainly vampires didn't burn at the touch of silver like in those ridiculous stories, but the object itself gave his guts a turn. He examined her hands, finding longer-than normal fingernails. At the sides of her neck, he found what looked like two sets of three horizontal scars.

"Very interesting," Tesla announced to everyone. "Helen, it appears we have a Siren on our hands."


	2. Beginning

_**Disclaimer:**_ **No clever disclaimers here. You know this. Sanctuary ain't mine. This nightgown is. There's an OC. You don't like OC's? Don't read.**

_**A Brief Author's Note: **_**I think this series of Baby Grands may have some continuity to it. Of course, some of these will probably be stand-alone ficlets, but this is going to be an actual story. Also may contain a slight exaggeration of Ashley's temper. This is for comedic effect. Flames unwelcome.  
**

Beginning

Wild-caught Abnormals varied in how they adjusted to life at the Sanctuary. A comparable few fought until Helen ordered tranquilizers and, in extreme cases, restraints. Some fit right in and were going about like everything was normal in nothing flat. As per usual, the great majority of cases took the middle of the road, seeing new individuals adapting to the new situation within due time. A partially-human Siren, as Tesla had deduced they were working with, was a new experience though. Sally was pure mermaid and remained quite happy in her tank. This one, on the other hand, was a completely different story.

Things had started out innocuously enough. Doctor Magnus had wrapped the young lady in a blanket and she had taken to this fairly readily, probably just out of being cold. Will and Ashley had been assigned to take her to a habitable suite and get her properly dressed. Nikola Tesla decided upon accompanying them.

"Tesla, far be it from me to ask," Will prefaced. "But… _why?_"

The forensic psychologist, being sort of the Sidney Freedman of the Sanctuary, handled some of the more difficult arrivals. She had yet to cause a problem, but Helen definitely saw some… difficulty… in this one.

"Because, _Will_," replied the vampire, with exaggerated politeness. "This promises to be more amusing than anything else going on around here!"

Surprisingly enough, the Siren didn't try to fight them as they led her along the corridors and she didn't try to bite Will when he laid a hand on her shoulder to usher her in.

Ashley immediately shuffled through the chest of drawers and found a pair of panties with a matching camisole for the young lady – bras weren't something they kept on hand. Will had ventured over to the wardrobe and produced a knee-length, London-grey cotton jumper with a bow in the front. Everything looked like it would fit and be age-appropriate on someone who looked like she could pass for about twenty in human age. Will turned his back as Ashley approached the Siren with the assembled clothing draped over one arm. Tesla leaned against the four-post bed and watched with a smug grin. The Siren tilted her head and obediently let the blonde tell her which piece went where and how to put it on. Ashley then thrust the clothing into the other girl's arms and told her to get dressed.

The Siren stared at her with a patient look on her face, as if to say "Yes, but what am I supposed to do now?" Exasperated, Ashley took the panties from her and mimed putting them on – Will, who had sneaked a peek over his shoulder, suppressed a laugh. Nikola didn't bother covering his short bark of laughter. When the Siren continued to stare at her with that infuriatingly serene expression, she tossed the dress and camisole on the dresser. The Siren narrowed her eyes as Ashley advanced on her, brandishing the panties like a gun. Those green eyes turned yellow and shark-like again and her lip curled back, showing teeth that hadn't been serrated a second ago. Ashley's eyes widened as the two middle fingers of the girl's hands fused and her fingernails grew into inch-and-a-half-long claws.

"Okay, calm down, huh?" the blonde tried to encourage the Siren. She extended her hand, proffering the underpants. "Just do me a favor and put these on, make life a little easier on all of us."

Yellow, shark-y eyes narrowed dangerously, but Ashley pressed on, taking a step forward.

"Look, you're not doing anybody any good standing around like that!" she insisted, irritated with this process already.

"Oh! On the contrary," Tesla announced jovially. "This is providing _me_ with excellent entertainment!"

Ashley glowered at him over her shoulder.

"Ugh. You're not doing anyone who _matters_ any good!" she shot back, nearly throwing the panties at the Siren.

Tesla fastidiously ignored that remark and continued studying the naked female form – it was all in the name of science, of course. The Siren bared her over-sharp teeth at Ashley while Will turned around, carefully keeping his gaze above her neck. He held up his hands to show her that he meant no harm and carefully inched over to Ashley's side.

"Okay… okay… Now, we're not going to hurt you," he assured her in his charmingly neurotic way. "We would just… _appreciate it_ if you'd put these on."

"If you don't like the color, I can find another pair," Ashley chimed in, waving the panties.

Nikola snorted, cracking his neck and continuing to watch, of course being completely useless to the whole effort.

"Look, cut out the bullshit, okay?" demanded Ashley. "Just get dressed and we can all get on with our regularly bizarre and twisted lives!"

The Siren stared, those slitted pupils fixing malignantly on the blonde as a growl rumbled up from the back of the throat. Finally, Ashley got entirely sick of this little charade and, before Will could stop her, jumped the poor girl, pinning her arms to her sides! Will swore and reached down to pull the two women off each other. Tesla laughed until a normal man would have tears running down his face as, in the ensuing struggle, everyone got bitten at least twice. The nefarious panties fluttered out of the fray to lie abandoned on the floor.

Will managed to right himself and he stood up, with Ashley by one shoulder and the Siren by the scruff of her neck. The growling continued, but her fingers had un-fused and fingernails had returned to a half an inch in length.

"Maybe she could _just_ put the dress on?" asked the psychologist.

Ashley responded with a black curse, the Siren scratched his hand, and Nikola pushed up off the bed. He took a few steps forward, the problematic underwear about an inch from his left foot. He bent down and picked them up, letting them dangle from one long, slim finger.

"Well my dear," he addressed the Siren, grinning. "Welcome."


	3. Collar

_**Disclaimer:**_ **I do not own Sanctuary. I own a few incredibly dirty fantasies involving Nikola Tesla, but I think I'll keep those to myself... Unless you guys WANT to read them? Also, contains an OC. Don't like, don't read.**

_**A Brief Author's Note: **_**There is one ethnic name in this ficlet. I would have loved to use a Nez Perce name, considering the area, but I can't pronounce any of them. I don't like using words or names that I can't pronounce in my writing, because it comes off as disrespectful to the language to my mind. The language I used instead is of the Lakota people of the Sioux nation.**

Collar

They could get her to wear clothing maybe twenty percent of the time. It had to be completely natural fibers though – anything synthetic caused her to break into a boiling rash. Usually if she wore anything at all, it was a light cotton sundress. The infernal underpants had been a no-go and bras were right out. There was a collective shrugging of proverbial shoulders and now no one really gave it much thought that she went about naked most of the time. Tesla looked her up and down out of the corner of his eye, his gaze both appreciative of the view and scientifically calculating as usual.

His scrutiny fell upon the collar. It had been the reason he saw her, floating there in the surf. The burn on the back of her neck had healed up reasonably well and probably wouldn't leave a terrible scar. They had tried to cut the blasted thing off her, but the fit she had when Henry came in with a circular saw put the kibosh on that. The Big Guy called off the peanut gallery, telling them all that when she was ready, she would trust them.

No one in the Sanctuary had yet heard her speak. They weren't sure, come to think of it, that she could. She could make some ungodly noise when provoked, but they hadn't heard a coherent word out of her yet.

Tesla looked back at his notes, documenting her physical abnormalities. Obviously, her current form was not her natural one. Besides her eyes and teeth shifting back and forth and her hands changing, she often scratched her head, as if wearing an itchy wig. She also seemed uncomfortable in her lightly-tanned skin. When she thought no one was looking, she would raise a hand as if to tug on the collar, but then she would lower it again, almost in fear. When he looked up again, she had just done so.

"Where did you get that thing?" he asked her, looking back at his notes as if he really didn't care about the answer.

Out the corner of his eye, he saw her look over as though she wasn't sure he was speaking to _her._

"Well, come now, answer the question," he persisted idly.

She looked around suspiciously, as though scanning the room for something, cameras maybe.

"Why do you want to know?" she spoke in a measured, whispery voice, hushed as though wary of eavesdroppers.

Tesla turned his torso to face her, one hand up with the index finger extended – his "I'm an intellectual" pose.

"Call it scientific curiosity," he volleyed back amiably.

The Siren looked away, visiting some rather painful memories.

"A man in white put it on me," she said softly. "He screwed it shut in the back. And had a second man burned it on so that it won't come off. The woman with them said this would give them perfect control."

The vampire turned fully towards her, eyes narrowed.

"How did you get away from the Cabal?" he inquired.

Her hands tensed, fingernails extending to about an inch in length. The back story poured out, how the people who lived around the Sound loved her. They spoke of her with respect and affection. She had a reputation rather like the Little Mermaid of Danish fame, or the Loch Ness Monster. Her status was that of "urban legend" or "benign freak" – sightings brought tourists to the area.

One day, a man who fished in the area shot one of her friends – a sea lion she had called "Eyanosa", in honor of his size. That man came back to hurt her friends again, so she had lured him in, killed him, and eaten parts of him. His flesh proved distasteful, so she had let him float away. Some other people became angry with her for killing the man.

She had been shot with a bullet that was sharp. A net had fallen over her as the water went black. When she woke up, she was strapped into a chair in a room full of blinding lights. Her first reaction was to struggle – she noticed her tail was gone. There were needles and tubes in her arms. She didn't know how they had caused her to change forms.

Tesla listened most intently as she described the men and the woman with them. According to her, the men had white faces – he assumed she meant surgical masks. The woman had bright hair, bright lips, and cold eyes. Tears formed in the Siren's eyes as she recounted how the woman had remarked that this one would make an excellent exhibit for control collars. She continued to struggle, to fight with all she had. The burning was worse than a shark bite.

They had shut her in a room with metal walls and gone away. Lucky for her, they had not counted on her being able to partially shift. Nor had they thought of the fact that teeth like hers could easily cut through metal. When she got past the metal, the drywall behind it was easy enough for her claws. She didn't know the names of the rest of the materials, but with the aid of a scream that could shatter a brick, she got out.

She had flagged down a policeman, who took her to a station very close to the Sound. He had been a nice man who wanted to help her get back to where she belonged. When his back was turned, she had stolen a jacket, slipped out, and run the rest of the way to the water. She ran out into the surf and swam well out of her depth, ready to shift. However, her partial shifting did not bring out her gills. Salt water did not agree with human-form lungs and the tide was heavy. From what Tesla deduced, he had found her just in time.

"What's your name?" he asked, his voice commanding.

She smiled at him.

"Maira," she answered.


	4. Deficiency

_**Disclaimer:**_ **I do not own Sanctuary, seriously. If you've read my Repo! fan fictions, you know that I don't do disclaimers of the "witty" variety. Alicia Blade does. She rocks. This fic contains an OC. Don't like, don't read.**

_**A Brief Author's Note: **_**This one is definitely more of an amusing bit. Probably borders on the side of crack-fic. This only meant to be taken borderline seriously. It takes a serious subject - a mineral deficiency - and runs amok with it.**

Deficiency

It could have just been John's failure to explain the purpose of the pop-top when he handed her a Sprite. Or maybe he explained and she just didn't hear him. Could it be possible she just didn't understand? Regardless, several eyebrows raised when the Siren ignored said pop-top completely and bit the top of the can clean off. Hands covered ears as she partially chewed the thin aluminum before swallowing it in chunks. Maira tilted her head at the gathered crowd, wondering what all the fuss was about. No reason came to her, so she shrugged her shoulders, chugged the soda, and ate the rest of the can.

Henry watched her chew in amazement as Will shook his head, and a young man with antlers left the room with his hands over his ears. John sank into an armchair and picked up a book, watching the proceedings over the top. No one seemed to want to correct her. Grunting in dismay at the other "gentlemen" in the room, the Big Guy advanced on her, a fresh can of Sprite in his giant hand. When she reached for it, a bright smile and a "Thank you!" on her lips, he kindly popped the top for her.

"You're welcome," he rumbled in return.

This had to be the end of it, everyone thought. However, once the Siren had downed the contents, she bit a chunk out of the empty can. Even the unshakable Big Guy had to look askance at this one. Will got up from the couch, a pained look on his face, and left the parlor. Quirking one eyebrow, Henry watched in morbid amusement. The Siren continued eating the can, quietly chewing away. This time, she saved the pop-top for last.

"If you'll excuse me, everyone," the Big Guy announced quietly, "A visit must be paid to Doctor Magnus."

With that, the Sasquatch exited the parlor. He found Helen Magnus in her study, silently reading at her desk. The British woman looked up from her book and gave her butler a polite half-smile.

"Is something the matter?" she asked him, her voice deliberately light – he never bothered her unless it was urgent.

"It concerns that Siren – Maira, I believe her name is," the Big Guy told her. "She has eaten two Sprite cans in the past ten minutes or so."

Helen blinked silently for a moment – the Abnormals had a wide variety of problems. Dietary anomalies came in all sizes, shapes, and forms and occurred for all sorts of reasons. Henry had the most bizarre and horrid cravings when he felt the urge to shift forms coming on – at one point it was pork skins, Twix bars, and Vienna sausages… all at the same time. Shaking the vomit-inducing thought from her mind, she assured her manservant that a small problem like that would probably sort itself out in no time.

"Of course," he murmured in agreement, bowing and exiting her study.

The next day dawned and all morning, no one had seen hide or hair of Maira. Normally, she could be found hanging about Tesla's lab, watching him work or playing run-and-fetch when he needed something. When asked, he responded that he hadn't seen her either and that was all fine with him, since she had eaten his brushed-aluminum fountain pen the previous night. The Big Guy took in this information with no small amount of puzzlement and left the lab, still in search of the small female demolition unit.

Henry tipped him off to some unusual activity in the garage and, looking over the video screens, the Sasquatch had to suppress a smile. The small Siren had done some downright strange things, but this one took several cakes, even by the Sanctuary's standards. Henry, as if picking up on the Big Guy's thoughts, picked up the 'phone and dialed Helen's extension, hiding a grin of his own.

"Magnus?" he inquired.

"Henry, I've almost been expecting a crisis this morning," she answered. "What is it?"

"You'd better come see this," answered the werewolf, cracking a smile. "Come down to the garage."

Rolling her eyes, Doctor Magnus exited her study and her heels clicked along the halls on her way to the garage. On the way, she stopped into the lab to grab Nikola. The Big Guy and Henry greeted them, and their collective suppressed smiles worried her. She looked from one mischievous face to the other and got nothing. Silently, her manservant opened the door and all of them stopped dead at what they saw.

There was Maira, sitting on the floor of the garage, beside Helen's personal car. The muffler had been inexpertly butchered out and sported several holes. Maira's teeth had grown triangular, sharper, and serrated – much like a shark's. As such, she was no longer _chewing_ the metal, so much as swallowing great chunks. Henry's smile threatened to split his face and the Big Guy blinked in silence, his furry face trying to hide an ear-to-ear grin.

"Is that what I think it is?" asked Helen, to no one in particular.

"The muffler, yes," answered the Big Guy, all of a sudden with a straight face.

Maira looked up at the assembled trio, blinking in confusion – all this fuss over nothing again!

"Maira, that is the muffler of my car," Magnus said to the Siren, her voice as pleasant as she could make it.

The Siren looked down at the broken metal _thing_ and looked back up at Henry, the Big Guy, and Dr. Magnus.

"Oh," she replied, her furrowed brow telling all present that she didn't precisely understand. She took another bite and grated out "Interesting!"

"Please put that down?" Magnus instructed rather than asked.

Bits of the muffler fell to the cement floor with a clatter, but the Siren continued biting pieces off the large part still in her hand.

"Has this got anything to do with her eating my pen?" asked Tesla.

Realization dawned on Helen's face.

"I believe she has a mineral deficiency."


	5. Ethics

_**Disclaimer:**_ **Okay, y'all know the drill. I don't own Sanctuary or anything canon. I own this fic and my own ideas, including Maira. If you want to use her, please ask me. And as always, if you don't like OCs, why the hell have you read this far!?**

_**A Brief Author's Note: **_**I am not advocating the IRL sexual relationship between anyone with which it would, in fact, be unethical to do so - i.e, any pair in which one person is in a position of authority over the other; teachers, workplace bosses/supervisors, doctors, scientists, you get the picture. If you want to do that in a safe, sane, and consensual manner and you are of the legal age in your area, go right ahead! On the Internet, it is always better to go ahead and get all this stuff out in the open, so I don't get arrested or anything. Bottom line: DON'T DO ANYTHING DUMB!**

_**Content Warning: **_**This ficlet contains mature situations, including sexual relations between two consenting adults. They are in an unethical situation which, in real life, should only be translated into a roleplay BDSM scene. If you are under the legal age in your area or do not enjoy "adult" material... shoo shoo!**

Ethics

Nikola Tesla wasn't concerned with ethics.

He knew he had completely less-than-ethical motives when he offered to accompany her back to her room. They both knew it. Maira couldn't help it when he set his hand between her shoulder blades to usher her out, carefully avoiding the burn on the nape of her neck. He knew it wasn't ethical at all, the way he guided her through the hallways. She drew herself up, chest out and shoulders back, a small but proud smile on her lips. A scientist with ethics, never mind morals, would have kept his gaze fixedly above her neck – the Siren wore nothing.

Ethics never entered the equation as he locked the door behind them. They didn't bite his mind as he looked down into those green eyes. Her smile, less toothy than he expected, drove all mention of them away. She was a scientific curiosity, an anomaly even among Abnormals – a Siren confined to human form. When something got him curious, his reaction was to _study_ it. Some subjects required more intense scrutiny than others, of course.

But it was decidedly _not_ in the name of science that his hand twisted in her hair and his lips came down on hers. He would need no notes to recall the way her body molded perfectly against his_._ Some people, he decided, for whatever reason – variables weren't important in this case – just did not _fit._ Their hold would always be awkward, their bodies not quite meeting correctly, but not this one. But he didn't need the scientific method to deduce that.

She moaned in his ear when his lips left hers and fell instead on her throat, teeth nipping not-softly at the tender skin. Ethical scientists did _not_ cause their subjects to make that sound. The right thing to do would be to bid her a chaste good-night and shut the door with him outside. He gave this no thought as her hand found the top button of his shirt. She tugged at it and let out a quiet, playfully sensual laugh before slipping it deftly open and moving on. He returned the laugh, his breath fanning warmly over her skin and raising gooseflesh on her arms.

"_Oh!_" she moaned out loud as he held her to him and bit down, just this side of breaking skin, where her neck met her shoulder. Her knees gave out and he saw no point in standing six feet from the closed door. Ethics flew out the bloody window when he bent down, swept her jelly-like legs out from under her and half-carried, half-dragged her over to the four-post bed. She fell back easily, missing the pillows entirely, her hands gripping his shoulders to pull him down with her. His knee pushed between her legs.

She ran both hands down his back, unusually-long fingernails drawing light red lines on his pale skin, softer than any man she had ever eaten. Her encounters were usually that: a mockery of a good-bye kiss as she bit through the spinal cord before eating him. Sirens didn't get happy endings – they lured men to their deaths. She had scruples, though, only killed and ate the ones who tried to hurt her friends. But she didn't think about them at the moment when she heard the groan that pushed past his lips as she pushed her hips against his. His bare chest against the swell of her own did funny things to her thinking.

He himself gave no thought to ethics, morals, scruples, or anything but making her squirm as he kissed, licked, nipped, and stroked his way down her body. Her hands tangled in his hair and she bit back a cry as his tongue swept between her legs. His hands cradled her hips in perfect opposition to the firmness with which he held her. Oh yes, she would have bruises tomorrow. He had always been a Victorian gentleman, but that did not make him, by any stretch of the imagination, _gentle_ as a man. The Siren let out a wail as his lips found her sweetest spot – gentleness didn't matter at the moment.

Nothing did. Certainly not ethics, _they _didn't matter as he pulled away and repositioned himself over her. He held himself off, making her want it so much more. Her eyes, her hands, and then finally her voice begged for him to take her. He smiled devilishly, then inclined his head so that his panting lips hovered an inch from hers. He counted three heartbeats before entering her.

She moaned, squalled obscenely as he held her down and drove into her hard and fast, the way they both wanted it. Never one to take it passively, her hips rose to meet his thrusts and her hands raked fiercely down his back, raising blood-red welts. Any mere human would bleed terrifically at scratches like that, but he was so much more. His fingernails almost pierced skin and his weight held her down as he growled deeply in her ear, words lost on both of them but the sound spurring them on. She grinned mischievously, showing sharp, dangerous teeth as she gripped his buttocks and tried to pull him deeper. His breath against her skin drove her wild.

Ethics would never have permitted this encounter, never allowed him to push so deeply into her or her to scream out for him as he touched the spot inside her. They wouldn't have let him suck on her lower lip and tease himself with a touch of her blood where she had bitten it earlier. If he paid attention ethics, he wouldn't run a hand over her breast or make her shiver with his caress. Certainly with those, he couldn't have cooed everything she wanted to hear to bring her over the edge, trace her ear with his tongue, and hold her in a vise-like grip as she shook in climax. He couldn't have come soon after himself.

Good thing Nikola Tesla wasn't concerned with ethics.


	6. Flowers

_**Disclaimer:**_ **Don't you people know that I don't do witty disclaimers yet!? Jeebus! I don't own Sanctuary. I own nothing but a few twisted fantasies and Maira. You want to borrow her? Ask. You don't like OCs, I dunno why you're still here.**

_**A Brief Author's Note: **_**This ficlet contains material pertaining to getting high and/or tripping out. I don't advocate doing anything stupid, okay? If you're going to play with... plant matter, shall we say... don't be a jackass about it. Personally, I don't care if you get baked with your friends and giggle and eat and watch stupid movies. I'm all for legalization as well! Just, like I said, go with the mode of common sense. Barring that, get video and make sure it's amusing.**

_**Disclaimer FOR Author's Note: **_**Please, for the love of all that's holy and several things that aren't, do not take this stuff too all-fired seriously. This author is writing on way too little sleep.**

Flowers

Nikola Tesla viewed most things in a strictly scientific manner. Others, he saw as being there merely for _his_ amusement. However, a very few struck him as truly odd. Maira had found herself on this third list. It shouldn't have been that unusual, all things considered. The Siren did not, in her natural form, breathe air into her lungs. It only made sense for her to be _affected_ in her human form by normal respiration. Blinking at his findings, he realized she exhibited all signs of intoxication, in particular as though caused by smoking illicit botanicals. Air itself went right to her head!

His first reaction was to take her on a little outside observation study. She hadn't been outside the Sanctuary buildings since her arrival and it had been quite some time. Yes, he decided, this did bear further scrutiny!

At first, she stayed very close to him, wary of the grass and trees. He had expected this – she gravitated towards that which was familiar and in this case, that was him. Then, as she got her confidence, she began to wander about. It was as if only about half her mind existed on their current plane of reality. He heard Ashley describe the mindset as, "She's got the six-pack, but the plastic isn't there to hold it together". As he watched Maira sort of drifting about the grounds, probably watching the colors of the world change, he believed it.

She settled in on her knees by a collection of night-blooming jasmine, reaching out a hand to touch the delicate silver-white flowers. He pursed his lips and narrowed his eyes in study as he watched her hand move. Like a dancer, her fingers seemed to caress the silken air itself. From the look on her face, he could watch her _seeing _said air cloud like gossamer and caress her bare skin. Her fingers curled dreamily through the tendrils she must have been privy to.

With a quirky little half-smile on her lips, which looked almost as though she had been kissed within an inch of her sanity, she leaned forward almost in slow-motion. Her nose almost touched the stamen of one of the tiny blooms. If he didn't know because of closer inspection that it had been broken at least once, he would have guessed her nose to be Slavic like his own. Fog collected on her eyelashes, which caressed her cheeks as her eyes fell closed and she inhaled the scent of the flowers in ecstasy.

Choppy and unsure, the Siren's motions were oddly graceful as her waist bent and her shoulder turned to the side. She seemed to fold and unfold simultaneously, curling inward as if trying to assume the fetal position. Curled this way, she sank onto the damp ground. Her back arched the other way, like a drawn bow, as she lay on her side. That dreamy smile still lit on her lips as she opened her eyes. She looked as though she had awakened from the fantasy of a lifetime as she reached her whimsical hand out again. If he didn't know better, he would have thought she had been smoking. From the look of it, if she had been, every participant in the Woodstock festivities would have killed for what she had!

All of a sudden – and he could clearly watch the changes in her expression – an impulse struck her and she sprang off the ground as though something had shocked her. However, instead of sprinting off to some unknown destination, she continued floating about sedately. She went from flower to flower, examining each with equal care and tenderness. Different kinds brought different reactions. With all the observations he needed, Tesla crossed the yard and took her firmly by the shoulder. She smiled hazily up at him as he guided her back into the building. He had an idea.

He shut the door to her room – with himself on the outside of it, for a change – and hurried back the way they had come. Running over his hypothesis repeatedly in his unnaturally-overpowered mind, he headed for Helen's office. There was something there that he knew would help him test said hypothesis. All he had to do was shock the door knob and walk right in. It was undetectable in the immediate sense – Helen would have something to say about it the next day – so it suited his purpose. His steely grey eyes scanned the room and located the object of said purpose in seconds. Grinning in a very stereotypically mad-scientist way, he light-fingered it and smartly exited the office.

Without Druitt's teleportation, he made the second-quickest trip in the Sanctuary back up to Maira's room. He hid his unknown variable behind his back and twisted the locked door knob open. He found her sprawled on her bed, still smiling blithely, but nowhere near as spaced out as before. His brilliant mind processed this quickly – not reacting as strongly to the "canned air" from the air conditioner as she did to the fragrance of outside. She turned her head and blinked at him, greeting him in a voice as faraway as her expression.

"I have something for you," he announced, as though he didn't already have her full attention.

Maira tilted her head.

"What is it?" she sounded both happy and incredibly sleepy.

From behind his back, he produced the dozen red roses he had just swiped off the sideboard in Helen's office. The Siren blinked at him in confusion – then her face lit up. He deduced that she had never seen a rose before. His spidery fingers selected a single bloom on its long stem and held it out to her. She took it and, as she inhaled its fragrance, that dreamy and "tripped-out" expression slid over her face like an oil slick. In the same manner, a knowing grin lit upon Tesla's lips. His experiment was a success!

Maira was _affected_ by air, but got high as a kite off of flowers!


End file.
